Allow me to enlighten you as to the sordid and marginally legal antics of the computer geek when it is let loose in the wilds of Las Vegas. First, it seeks out others of its kind, if only to strengthen its inherent nerdiness. When in a pack, computer geeks generate a forcefield which protects them from its natural enemy, the Jock. Once the computer geek has joined with the pack, the pack will head out in search of the preferred foods of the geek, which usually include fried items, burgers, and mathematical equations. In captivity, the computer geek will gravitate towards standard beverages containing caffeine, such as Jolt Cola or triple-espresso mocha frappuccinos, but when let loose in the wild, the geek's beverage of choice becomes something of a wild card. Many of them will choose a frothy beverage such as a Pina Colada, but several sub-species of the computer geek has been known to gravitate to vodka martinis (shaken not stirred) that are associated with virile characters from something they watch called "movies". Rarer still are the computer geeks that enjoy a nice single malt scotch. These geeks generally stand out as leaders of the pack and will often be known to seek out attractive non-geeks for conversation. This is a notable variation from the norm, as most geeks, even in the wilds of Las Vegas, tend to stick with their own species and generally avoid the non-geek population.

Each evening, the computer geek packs will willingly revert to captivity and return to their hotel rooms, where they enjoy some time in front of their computers before retiring. Upon awakening in the mornings, the computer geek usually requires a beverage containing enough caffeine to kill a small elephant and a pastry item before it can be let loose to rejoin the pack. In the case of a large gathering of computer geek packs, known as a "convention", the packs will all join together in a particular area and split off into different groups to listen to the pack leaders tell them of new technologies and make lame jokes about "end users", which is a native computer geek term for one of their natural adversaries. Approximately every two hours, the geeks will split off again and seek out a different leader, who will speak of a different technology. The computer geeks call this "fun". During the breaks between the leaders' speaking sessions, the geeks will refuel with copious amounts of caffeinated beverages and pastry items. This goes on for several days, with the evening rituals and morning caffeine consumption repeated until the convention disbands, the packs drift apart, and the geeks return to their individual native habitats. These conventions occur at random intervals throughout the year, and are most commonly seen in Las Vegas; travelers are advised to be on the lookout for roving packs of wild geeks, as they can get fairly nerdy and verbose when intoxicated.

Hi. I am in Vegas. As you can tell, I am a giant nerd because the first thing I did upon my arrival in Vegas was hook my shit up to the broadband intarweb access and tell you guys about it.

Go, me! I'm a party animal!

During the week, I will be updating you on my fabulous, glamorous life as a public speaker. I will tell you about all the sordid, naughty things us computer geeks get into when we're in Sin City. I will also chronicle the high levels of nervousness that I am experiencing, which I assume will continue to escalate until creepy, somewhat moist butterflies burst from my stomach like that one scene in Alien.

Also, to the guy in the champagne-colored Ford Extinction that kept riding my ass just before Barstow: YOU ARE A DICKHOLE. You'd better be glad I've decided to use my powers for good instead of evil, because there would have been some major smiting going on if I was still nursing at the teat of the dark side. Beeyotch.

In case you were wondering, though it did appear that I was absent from my 'blog for Passover, I was actually absent because my webhost moved to a new server and there were some issues during that process. But if you want to think that it was because I was off having a nice seder and hanging out with my Bubbie, then that's okay, too.

The last week has been hella hectic for me. I'm speaking at a techiegeek conference next week, so I'm trying to wrap up a project at the office before I leave, but it looks like I won't be able to so I'll have to continue working on it while I'm at the conference. That wouldn't be so bad if the conference was anywhere other than Las Vegas. I was really looking forward to spending all of my spare time outside of my speaking engagements sitting at a roulette table and consuming my weight in Glenlivet, but alas, I will have to spend some time in my hotel room writing technical documentation while consuming my weight in Glenlivet. Hmm, I guess that won't be half bad, either.

Liz has been away for a few days working on a movie set, so I've been alone with the one-eyed cat at the house. While she was away, he was kind enough to allow me to take some photos of him, which I will post shortly. Of course, he's very handsome even with just one eye so I will have to ask that you not allow any young, impressionable female cats to view the photos of him, because they will instantly fall in love and you will not be able to pry them off the monitor. Actually, I'd better expand that to young, impressionable gay male cats and people who subscribe to Cat Fancy magazine.

I'm going to take a nap now; perhaps that will restore my usual high levels of hilarity. I'll let you know.

I was going to write something today, because while I've been commuting for the last couple of days I have formulated an entire post in my head, but I started reading this, and now I can't tear myself away long enough to write down the entire post I composed inside of my brainmeats. Seriously, it is the best thing I have read all year, and I felt that I should share my pure, unadulterated joy in reading the fine works of Mr. Michael Kelly with you, my four and a half adored readers. After I am done reading everything he has ever written, I will write my oft-thought-about post just for you, and I promise that, unlike this post, it will not contain so many commas that you want to shoot me, and then yourself.

I have never felt comfortable within the confines of monogamy. To me, it feels like an outdated societal construct that doesn't really gel with our current reality. I'm sure it's fine for some people, and in fact, many people I know are or have been perfectly happy in long-term monogamous relationships. However, I think that our cultural conditioning makes people think that it's the right thing to do, when in reality, their own personality, desires, and needs differ from that cultural norm.

Now, I'm not talking about an orgiastic free-for-all here (not that there's anything wrong with that). I'm talking specifically about polyamory, that is, having multiple, open, honest, loving relationships. I think that in a lot of cases, people aren't able to get all of their needs met by just one person. I don't think that polyamory is necessarily a panacea that can magically take care of all of those needs, but for some people, engaging in multiple relationships at the same time can be a wonderful, happy, beautiful experience.

That said, I've never really indulged in my tendencies towards polyamory. Sure, I've been in "open dating" situations, where there was an explicit agreement of mutual non-exclusivity (that's my 5-dollar-sentence way of saying that we could see other people). However, those situations were really quite short-lived and weren't really serious relationships. Every serious relationship I have been in has been with a person to whom monogamy is very important. With one notable exception, I have deferred to my partners' feelings in this matter and have remained faithful. I have found, through personal experience and observation, that it is not worth it at all to risk hurting someone you care deeply about in order to get your own needs satisfied. In other words, I think that it is more important to me to ensure my partner's well-being by remaining faithful even if my own emotional or sexual needs are not being fulfilled. I know that sounds like I am trying to be a selfless martyr type, but that's not my intention - I get plenty of satisfaction from seeing my partner happy or at least content, so whatever "sacrifice" I am making is offset by the satisfaction I get from fulfilling my partner's need for monogamy.

So, since I am not in a situation where I am able to explore my own poly tendencies, I have decided to channel that interest into a project. I am going to combine my interest in polyamory with my penchant for writing and my love of photography, and do photo essays and interviews with people who are currently in or have been in polyamorous relationships. I'm not sure where I want to go with this - whether I'll eventually turn it into a book, or just publish it online, but I definitely want to explore this subject in more detail. So, if you're in a poly relationship, or you have been, and you'd be willing to be interviewed and/or photographed by someone with a web site named after a soiled and tasseled red felt head covering, please let me know.

For those of you who were wondering, we got through the Artwalk relatively unscathed. Liz sold a painting and has someone coming back to buy another one later this week. I sold nothing, but I never really expect to because people don't buy photographs, really. I walked around and checked out one or two other studios, and there was a photographer who was selling little photo notecards, and I think I'll do that next time. People buy stuff like that. Anyway, I didn't mind not making sales because I got a lot of compliments on my photography, and so my ego has ballooned to the size of Star Jones' ass. Also, my ego was further stroked by the cute boy who was flirting with me, thus causing it to grow so large it has now formed its own zip code. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant Artwalk, nobody was an asshole, and I learned that Jello shots are tasty but messy.

Over the weekend, I spent some more time pondering deep subjects and just generally thinking about things that, if I were to express them, would make my friends either fall asleep or call me a pretentious intellectual. Hey, you try sitting in your living room while strangers walk through it for seven hours straight and see if your mind doesn't wander. Anyway, I was thinking about a subject that interests me greatly that I have yet to explore, and so I came up with a project that I want to do in order to facilitate my own exploration as well as bring attention and understanding to others. I am still hammering out the details, but will post a lengthy diatribe on the subject tomorrow.

For the last couple of weeks, I've been thinking about really heavy stuff, like my place in the universe, my purpose in life, and how best to overcome my flaws and transcend my physical boundaries. I was thinking of writing about it, but instead of boring you with my own weird-ass personal spiritual quest, I'll tell you about my encounter with Crazy Homeless Dude yesterday and the shitty dream I had this morning.

On my way home last night, I stopped at the local fast food joint and pulled up to the drive-thru. There was an old homeless guy standing there by the menu, and he didn't look like he was doing too well. He was kinda scruffy, really skinny, and his eyes were all yellowish. He looked like he could be someone's grandpa, so I asked him if he wanted something to eat. He asked for fries and a coke, so I ordered it for him and pulled forward. A second homeless guy came over a few minutes later from the gas station across the street and decided to come up to my window and start talking to me. Crazy Homeless Dude started to go into his standard spiel, and then looked at me and goes, "Wow, you're pretty." I laughed, and he said, "No, really! You're really pretty! Wow!" I said, "Thank you," and he responded with, "Gimme two dollas." I liked his attitude, so I told him I'd give him my change when I got my food. As I drove away after handing over the food and cash, Crazy Homeless Dude yelled after me, "I hope your boyfriend treats you good! If he don't, throw him out!" Sage advice. Good thing my "boyfriend" treats me so well. I wouldn't want to have to throw "him" out.

Now for the shitty dream. This morning, instead of hitting snooze on my alarm clock seven times like I do every morning, I turned the damn thing off. During the next two blessed hours of oversleeping, I dreamed that I parallel parked my car in a normal spot on the street in Pasadena, and some dude in a big Ford truck came up behind my car and rammed it. I know it was a Ford because Fords are evil. Apparently the force of the ramming made my parking brake have an aneurysm and die, because my car proceeded down the street by itself as if propelled by Satan. Somehow I flagged down a car full of my friends (actually, it was a car full of people I kinda know - the cute guy from the photo lab, and some neighbors) and we drove around until we found my car, which was in the process of being loaded onto a flatbed tow truck after having crashed into something due to its Ford-propelled jaunt down major Pasadena thoroughfares. This upset me greatly because I love my car a whole lot. In fact, I tell it that I love it on a regular basis, because I want it to feel loved and appreciated. Anyway, the bad dream was enough to jar me into consciousness, at which point I realized that I had overslept and made a pronouncement along the lines of, "FUCK!" to declare my feelings about the oversleeping. It was fun!

One more time: don't forget to come to the Brewery Artwalk this weekend. I'll try and actually blog during the artwalk, especially if something interesting happens. If nothing interesting happens or I'm so busy selling mountains of my artwork that I can't take the time to post, I'll update you all on my thrilling life of intrigue and mayhem on Monday. And I might even tell you about that sex dream I had the other night involving celebrities! I know you're all on the edge of your seats.

And if you, dear reader, have chirpily told anyone, ever, to "smile," I would like to give you a piece of advice, to wit: shut the fuck up. I mean it. If you feel happy all the time, that's great, but I'll smile when I please and not before, and your telling me to isn't going to get it done -- it's irritating, it's intrusive, and it's a comment that's almost always directed at women, which makes it that much more irritating and intrusive since it implies that men can stomp around all grumpy if they like because they have Important Man Things to think about, but women ought to smile and speak in soothing tones or some shit like that, like, guess what? I run my own business, and it's in the red, so you can get a smile out of me by handing over a tax-free hundred grand. No? Then mind your knitting, Miss Merry Sunshine.

With the possible exception of beginning a sentence with "no offense or anything," telling another person with whom you do not have a binding legal or blood relationship to smile is the single most goddamn annoying conversational gambit in the world, and everyone BUT EVERYONE you say it to HATES it, and you. Don't fucking do it.

It's time for round two of grammar, spelling, and punctuation issues that bug the living bejeezus out of me. I've noticed a lot of these lately. I will try to be nicer than I was the last time, because people got really up in arms about the etymology of the term "duck tape". No reason to get pissed, party people - it's just some chick's web site. It's not like I'm coming over to your house and shouting "It's fucking DUCT TAPE" into a megaphone. Also, please don't tell me that I'm a "grammer" Nazi. It's spelled "grammar", you fucktard.

Definitely vs. definatelyThis makes me fucking crazy. Since when does 'definitely' contain the letter a? Some of my friends spell it the wrong way, and I love you people, but for the love of all that's holy, the correct spelling is "definitely". When you spell it incorrectly, it makes the baby Jesus cry.

Hear vs. hereHere denotes a location: "Come over here." Hear refers to your auditory sense: "I can hear you." Please do not write "I was hear when you came over, but I didn't here you ring the doorbell," because I will have to beat you about the head and shoulders with a sock full of quarters.

Could/would/should have vs. could/would/should ofYou are probably confusing "could've" with "could of". Allow me to point out the difference: "could've" is a contraction of "could have", whereas "could of" is not a fucking real phrase. Stop using it. Now.

Plurals with apostrophesOnce and for all, let's review what we learned in second grade English class, shall we? Plurals do not fucking require apostrophes. An apostrophe denotes possession. You do not have twenty-three cat's, you have twenty-three cats, you fucking weirdo. It's not that difficult to remember. I might have to stab myself in the eye with a salad fork if I see any more people using apostrophes incorrectly. You don't want that, do you? It would be awfully messy.

Overuse of ellipses (...)When you write like this... it is very annoying... please stop... or I might lose my fucking mind... and while that would be entertaining... for some people... I would really prefer to keep my mind fully intact... thank you... fuckers...

I could of gone on and on about other grammer problem's I see on a daily basis, but someone else definately has it covered... right hear.

I have been preoccupied all week with preparations for the Artwalk. It's like this every time the Artwalk comes around - all the artists start freaking out and working like crazy about a month before the event, and the last two weeks are serious crunch time. It's really crunch time for me - since I don't do any of my own film development or printing, I have to take everything to my favorite local pro lab and/or have prints made by an onlinelab. Having film processed or enlargements made at a lab takes time, so I had to drop off all of the stuff for my prints at the lab last night. I'm pretty much done with that stuff for now; I'm going to take some more body modification and suspension photos at my friend's house this weekend, but I won't have time to have enlargements made, just processing and proof prints. All that's left to do is mounting and framing the final prints when I get them back, so now that I'm done with that stuff I'm just going to focus on making a few small paintings to sell. I'm also working on a painting/collage project that'll be a present for my girlfriend, who is currently making paintings at a frenetic pace and therefore deserves lots of presents.

Some of you may know that my former roommate, who lives across the hall from me, is a tattoo artist. She's done all of my tattoos and a lot of my friends' tattoos, and she's very good at what she does. She's planning a trip to Asia in the summer and is trying to raise money for the trip, so she is doing special pricing until the end of May. If you want to get a tattoo from a kickass artist at a really good price, check out her flyer and give her a call. I'm not sure if she'll be around during the Artwalk, but you can try and schedule a consultation during that weekend to check out her portfolio and then come visit me while I'm trapped in my living room trying to explain suspensions to a 60 year old Pasadena housewife.

After all this Artwalk hullabaloo is over with, I'll be back to my normal, fucking hilarious self. However, I fully expect that I'll post something towards the end of next week along the lines of "OMFG I AM SO STRESSED THIS IS TEH SUX0R", so you may want to stick around if you are a fan of seeing a person melt down in a text-based medium. I know you'll be waiting with bated breath.